


Tradition

by Youwerenevermeanttofeelalone



Category: Stranger Things - Fandom
Genre: F/M, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21680791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youwerenevermeanttofeelalone/pseuds/Youwerenevermeanttofeelalone
Summary: You hate Christmas due to the fact that your parents divorced around the holidays. At the end of a Christmas party, you find yourself thinking it’s not so bad sometimes.
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Plus Size Reader, Steve Harrington/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr and request something there: @youwerenevermeanttofeelalone

When Nancy told you the party would be fun she forgot to mention it was a Christmas themed party. You hated Christmas— well, hate was a strong word, your mom would always say that. Your mom would always say she and your dad were fine too but alas... 

The cheer of the holidays, the glisten of the lights, the smell of sweet cookies or cinnamon hot cocoa, it all brought you bad memories. It wasn’t Nancy’s fault, not even yours, but you wished she would’ve said something. Seeing your parents separate and eventually get divorced fucking sucked, the so-called joy of the festivities only reminded you of the bitter arguments and slamming doors. 

Around you, people were laughing and dancing, with their Christmas sweaters and hats, the lights from the tree twinkling in their multicolored nature as some of your acquaintances poured spiked eggnog in cups and passed them around. You looked down from them so they would skip you, trying to focus to find an excuse so you could ditch. 

The gesture didn’t work. Steve Harrington, one of your closest friends, sat down just beside you. You saw a red cup being thrust in front of your face and couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

“I’m not thirsty, Steve.” You craned your neck to look at him. 

He was glaring at you, still holding the cup for you to take. “You haven’t had even one sip, come on!”

Taking the cup from his hand so he would shut up, you lifted it as if to cheer the cup with his. The eggnog wasn’t bad at all, you just weren’t in the mood for drinking or parties. Steve, on the other hand, was very pleased with himself for making you finally drink something, his endearing smile let you know just that. 

That was another thing, you had a huge crush on your friend. How could you not? He had grown so much as a person, was nice, brave, funny, sensitive— Steve was great to put it shortly, and he was unbelievably handsome. 

“Okay,” he sighed heavily, snatching your cup and putting it down with his, “what’s going on with you?”

You shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “I’m just not in the mood, but Nancy wanted me to come.”

Humming, Steve watched you carefully before analyzing the entire room. He sighed again, ever his dramatic self, and extended a hand to you. “Let’s dance, then.” You glared at him. “For Nancy?” He tried, sheepishly. 

You dropped your hand on top of his, defeated but excited at the same time. Sure, he was using your best friend to convince you to dance and you weren’t in a festive mood but he was your crush and he wanted to dance, you weren’t going to say no. 

He pulled you to the dancing area, laughing at your annoyed face. He was graceful, of course he was, and you had to admit you weren’t bad yourself. Little by little, as the song progressed and eventually changed you started to enjoy yourself a bit, maybe a ton. It was impossible to be in a bad mood around Steve, mostly at that moment as he smiled at you so brightly, showing off his dance moves. 

You were, in fact, enjoying yourself so much you didn’t realize how far away both of you were getting from the dance floor. He was guiding you, laughing and dancing, challenging you to overdo his moves. What you realized were the hands on your back, pushing you closer to Steve.

Turning to look behind you, you saw Jonathan throwing you a teasing smile. The confusion on your face must’ve been clear because he pointed to the ceiling. A branch of mistletoe hung just above Steve’s head and he wasn’t moving from under it. You tried to tell Jonathan to cut it off with your eyes, yet it had the opposite effect and he pushed you harder. 

You ended up placing your hands on Steve’s shoulders to steady yourself. “Sorry,” you apologized, self-consciously looking at him. 

He put his hands on your plush waist, nodding. “It’s okay,” his voice had lowered. He stared upward, focusing for a couple of seconds on the mistletoe. “It’s tradition, you know?” His eyes dropped directly to your lips. 

You swallowed your spit, “yeah, I know.” 

Steve took that as consent and leaned to capture your lips in his. You felt his hands move, arms curling around you as yours slid to his neck. He tasted more of alcohol than you did for obvious reasons but still, the spices in the eggnog lingered on his tongue. You didn’t want it to end, you supposed he didn’t either because for some weird reason his tongue had just swiped over your bottom lip. 

Whistles interrupted the kiss, your friends all making comments about how it had finally happened, and how you two were hovering the mistletoe all to yourselves when you could make out somewhere else. You withdrew your hands from Steve’s neck and although he moved one of his arms from around you, he used the other one to turn you around so he could guide you outside while still touching you. 

The last thing you saw from the party was Nancy winking at you and it dawned on you that she hadn’t forgotten to tell you it was a Christmas party, she had planned for Steve and you to be caught under the mistletoe. 

The silent walk to his car was a little awkward, you assumed he would drive you home and the kiss would never be talked about ever again— it disappointed you but you were okay with that. Instead of unlocking the car, Steve trapped you between the passenger door and his body. Both his hands were on each side of your head, eyes on yours. 

“Can I kiss you again?” He whispered, not even blinking in case you would simply move your head. 

“Yes,” you answered, too quickly to not sound eager and too eager to care. 

He kissed you again, more passionately than before. This time his tongue was granted entrance to your mouth, your sighs swallowed by his own as his hands moved back to your waist. Steve unashamedly groped, smiling against your lips when you gasped. 

You parted from him to get some air, turning your face to the side. His lips peppered kisses all over your profile, hands now trailing up and down the sides of your torso. You would’ve felt insecure if you weren’t still hazy, if your heart wasn’t beating as fast as it was. 

“Wanna go out on a date with me?” He asked, his lips brushing your cheek. 

Moving to face him, you looked at him in search of an indication that he was joking and found none. Nodding, you boldly pressed your lips against his again. 

It seemed like sometimes Christmas celebrations weren’t that bad.


End file.
